


Fight

by dramatical_rhyme



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 01:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramatical_rhyme/pseuds/dramatical_rhyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mink accidentally hits Aoba.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight

Aoba was gone. Mink couldn’t sense his presence in the house. Even though he knew he wasn’t there, he had searched the whole house, every room, every nook, and every cranny. And he knew it was his fault.

For a while he just sat on the couch, cup of hot coffee in his large hands and Rurakhan perched silently on his shoulder. The large bird didn’t say anything, but Mink knew what he was thinking. He was thinking it himself as he stared blankly out the open window.

Though he was worried, he didn’t move. He didn’t think that Aoba wanted him to look for him, not after what he did. Mink remembered exactly what happened, all too clearly, and the searing pain broke his heart again. He’d hit Aoba.

It was only reactionary; he had been scared from the beginning that the old habit may pick up again. But things had been fine for so long. Aoba hadn’t done anything to make him mad enough to hit him, ever. This first time was partly his own fault; it was hardly Aoba’s. But a relationship takes two, and so does a fight. Mink could hardly remember what they had even been fighting about.

All he remembered was the feel of his fist against Aoba’s face; the way the action had been almost natural; Aoba’s shocked eyes, the way a light had flickered and died inside, and then how he was just- gone.

Mink’s regret filled him; his regret and despise for himself. He had ruined their newly founded trust. Trust that had taken months to grow so strong. He didn’t know how long it would take for him to fix it, if he even could.

\----

It had been hours and Aoba still wasn’t back. Silently, Mink stood from the couch and put the now cold coffee on the table. He grabbed Aoba’s coat, just in case he found him, and left the house.

Keeping calm was tiring, but it was something he was good at after years of practice. Mink was able to push the ever growing anxiety down far enough so that he couldn’t feel it as strongly or clearly, but it was still there. It pressed at the backs of his eyes, fuzzed his brain, and made his fingers twitch. He had no idea where Aoba was, and the man could have gotten far by now. Maybe he was lost. Or someone had done something to him.

Anger flared beside the anxiety, making his movements faster and swifter. _That idiot,_ he thought. What if something happened to him? Mink didn’t know what he would do if something had. What if he was lost in this forest or the next town over? Then he would be stuck in the cold in the next few hours, unless Mink found him.

Mink gritted his teeth and carried on, exiting the forest to ask around the town.

\----

It was dark and cold by the time he reached his cabin again. And not to his surprise, Aoba was sitting there on the steps shaking quietly. That’s right, Mink had locked the house. He cursed himself and walked to stand in front of Aoba, hiding his relief and steadying his shaking hands. The second Aoba saw him he jumped to his feet and rushed toward him, throwing himself at Mink with full force.

Mink took a step back to steady himself, but restrained from wrapping his arms around Aoba. Aoba sobbed into his collar and carefully, without touching him too much, Mink placed Aoba’s coat firmly on his shoulders.

“Come,” he said slowly. “Let’s go inside so you can warm up.”

“I-I can’t…move.” Aoba’s breath was hot in Mink’s shoulder. Without another word he picked Aoba up carefully and carried him inside feeling an immense sense of déjà vu.

\----

They avoided each other for a week, which was much too long for Mink despite how composed he tried to make himself look. Whenever they were close, Aoba took a step away. They talked normally and interacted as they had, but they didn’t touch. In bed, Aoba would curl away from him, pressing his slender body against the wall.

Mink couldn’t sleep. He had to hold back every fiber of his being from touching Aoba. He didn’t want to scare him again.

Though they interacted as they once had Mink had begun to become accustomed to a slight hesitance and quaver in Aoba’s voice whenever he had to confront Mink. Every hitch of his breath, every waver and shake in his words, every bit of uncertainty in that lovely voice shot a stinging pain through Mink’s body.

He tried to wait until Aoba was ready to talk, he really did. But he couldn’t anymore. So after lunch one day- Aoba had gotten immensely better at cooking- he sat Aoba down and they talked.

Aoba cried. Mink longed to touch him. He didn’t. Aoba told him he was scared and felt betrayed. Mink apologized with a lowered head and sullen eyes. There wasn’t more he could do to explain himself; there wasn’t anything to explain.

Aoba told him through stifled tears and choked breaths that he couldn’t touch Mink and that Mink couldn’t touch him until he was ready. Mink agreed. Aoba curled up on the couch, crying into his knees, and Mink didn’t touch him. It killed him. It tore him apart inside. But he had to win back Aoba’s trust; he had to work for it. And right now this was the only way to do so. He wouldn’t change his schedule for Aoba. He wouldn’t change his life just to go back once the trust was restored. That wasn’t the way to do things. So Mink sat close, but not touching, to Aoba as he cried himself to sleep. He lit a fire, laid a blanket over Aoba, and went to his own bed to try to sleep himself.

\----

Another week passed torturously. Aoba was still hesitant. When their shoulders brushed, when their hands hit, their feet rubbed in bed, he flinched away. Mink realized that after two weeks he should have been used to it. But he wasn’t. There was no way he ever could be. Each day his heart became tighter and tighter, feeling like it could crack at any second if something didn’t change.

So he became bolder. When their hands touched, he let them linger. He pressed close to Aoba in bed without really touching, he brushed that lovely blue hair off of his face when he was asleep. And slowly but surely, Aoba stopped flinching. Even so, Mink knew that he wasn’t ready to be embraced again, to be boldly touched and held. Mink would have to wait until Aoba told him he was ready on his own. He would not press past that limit without an invitation. Aoba would have to trust himself and Mink again, and make the first step.

\---

Mink didn’t let his surprise show the night Aoba clambered into his lap to sob silently into his shoulder. He did, however, hold him. He pressed his nose into the soft blue hair, stroking it and his back gently as Aoba clung to him. He smiled gently even though Aoba couldn’t see him. His skin singed where Aoba’s hands touch the back of his neck.

To distract himself he started braiding small pieces of Aoba’s long hair. Soon, Aoba had calmed down. He pulled away from Mink’s chest and wiped his eyes, looking up determinedly at Mink. “Mink,” he said. His voice was firm and full of feeling. Mink almost didn’t need to hear what came next, but he welcomed it. “I love you. I can’t stay like this anymore.”

Mink stayed quiet for a minute, contemplating the heavy words. Then he softened his eyes, let a smile ghost on his lips and he leaned down to brush a kiss against Aoba’s forehead. “Thank you for trusting me again.” He didn’t feel the need to continue on Aoba’s choice of conversation.

Aoba’s eyes widened as he blanched. “Why do you say that?” His voice was softer, now that Mink seemed to have caught him off guard.

Mink held his eyes tight in his own, letting all the emotion seep through them; something he didn’t normally do. He could sense Aoba’s intake of breath, knowing he’d gotten ahold of exactly what Mink was trying to show him, but he said the words anyway, “You’re touching me. You’re not flinching or hesitating.”

A flicker of a smile raised Aoba’s lips and warmth seeped into Mink’s skin. He hadn’t seen Aoba smile in nearly two weeks. “Yeah… Yeah I guess I am.” Then he grinned at Mink and pressed his head into the nook of his shoulder.

Mink wrapped his arms around Aoba, holding him tight. They both knew that things would be different know. That it would still take a while until everything fell back into place and before they became completely comfortable with themselves and each other again. But in turn they both accepted that, and Mink was pleased. “I’m sorry, Aoba,” he whispered, letting the last of his sorrow leave him. “I apologize for hitting you and I can promise you it will not happen again. I… had no intention of hitting you like that.”

“And you hate yourself for it,” Aoba whispered into his shoulder. “I know Mink. I’m sorry for becoming all up in arms about it.” Aoba paused to take a deep breath as Mink sat in his words, letting them wash all around him. Warmth spread from his belly to thaw his heart. He pressed his nose into the bare skin of Aoba’s neck and burried it there, eyes closed. “I believe you.” Aoba’s voice was soft, comforting, and Mink had to control himself more than he ever could to not let out a sound. He couldn’t stop the shakes.

“I apologize,” he said again, voice rough and muffled into Aoba’s warm skin.

“I know,” Aoba’s voice was warm, trusting, deliberate. “I trust you.”


End file.
